Season of Gray
by Kuroi Tenshi1
Summary: Winter is the season when everything is white. But for him, it's gray. A bit angsty, be warned.


Title: Season of Gray

Author: Kuroi Tenshi [kuroi_22@hotmail.com]

Pairings: SenKosh/KoshSen [I really see little point in its arrangement, as long as they're together, I'm one happy lady]

Warnings: Shounen Ai [not into this stuff? You're obviously lost]

Ratings: PG-13

Notes: I'm feeling a tad angsty, so here's a fic that came out from it. This may come a surprise, as I'm known to steer away from anything relatively opposed to happy endings and fluff, but hey, change is good, neh? A bit on the angst, disturbing side…? Ah, crap! If you're looking for a happy Christmas ficcie, this isn't the one you're looking for. Be warned.

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            You always did tell me winter was the Season of Coldness.

            But then again, why was I to take that statement seriously? It came from you. Who the hell are you that I should believe you?

            I remember how you used to dread the snowy season. You hated cold, above anything else. And why shouldn't you? You, who lived in constant sunshine. You always had the sun in your eyes, in your smile, in your touch.

            Your touch. I can still feel the searing caress of your skin against mine, even after months of separation. God, how idiotic. The cold really got me, that's for sure. I thought I've been over you. You're gone now, walked out of my life, much like the way you forced yourself into it. Well, you must be quite pleased to know stupid little me still isn't over you. Resize that goddamned doors of yours since I know how grotesquely out of proportion that head of yours is growing. Your ego never could get enough.

            Are you charming ladies and men where you are now? Knowing you, you are. I wouldn't be surprised if you've got each and every one of them panting after you there. How does it feel? To have everybody desire you? To have even this sad, pitiful doll of a man you left behind longing for you still?

            The door repairs? Forget about them. I'll build you a new house. I don't care. Just came back to me. Please.

            See what you've done to me? I've been reduced to begging. I shouldn't beg. I have a great deal more dignity than that. But here I am, lowering myself to pleading. For what? Your return? Your love?

            I used to think you loved me. You said so yourself. What an accomplished liar you've become. You promised me the sun, the moon, the stars…you promised me all there is in this universe. But you forgot to promise me one thing. Forever by your side.

            Did you know it then? That you would betray our pact? Did you look into that orange ball and magically saw the future ahead of us? Or did you merely want to spare me the pain?

            Of course, being the all-seeing prick you were—thinking you know everything there is to know about me, down to the color of boxers I prefer to wear—you knew it would only hurt me more when you leave, and you did.

            I hated you for that.

            What the hell happened to giving Winter the middle finger and swimming at the frigid waters of the beach, even if that meant a week in the hospital with our blood freezing over?

            Well, guess what, asshole? I did that. Too damn bad you weren't there when Dad came to the hospital. Thought I was trying to kill myself. Suspected you had something to do with it. What? Do I look that stupid I'd kill myself over you?

            Didn't think I was that transparent. But I argued I was just trying to prove I could move on without you. I can do fun things we agreed on, things you were too chicken to see through with me. After that, I wouldn't have minded being swallowed by the sea. I proved my point, didn't I? What's left after that? Nothing. How unfortunate he didn't understand the logic I oh-so-carefully explained to him. Fathers.

            But anyway, since I was restricted to my room for about a week, I busied myself with losing myself to the past. I raided the photo albums. Reminiscing has never been so fun. There was that picture with you wearing only that smiley boxers I gave you last Christmas.

            Hmm. You have to admit though, even you who hated snow, liked that part about this season. Presents. And god knows you receive truckloads of them. Though in my opinion, I never did tell you this, as you were obviously to protest, the presents make up for nothing.

            Am I so cheap I'm to be bought over by a couple of expensive presents while I freeze my ass for months? Keep those nicely wrapped packages; I'm keeping the heater with me.

            Well, that affair you like so much is just days away. I hope you're having fun, partying with whoever you are with right now. I don't really give a rat's ass if you're with someone. It's not like we promised each other eternal loyalty or anything. Go on right ahead, screw anything that moves for all I care.

            Ignore the fact that at the back of your mind, there's a little voice reminding you that with each smile, each kiss, each caress that was meant only for me, when directed to others, is knife thrust deeper in my chest. That's okay. I'm a masochist. I live for pain you inflict. Screw you, you lying, probably cheating, promise-breaking asshole!

            I can live without you. I survived the past seven months without being sent to the asylum, didn't I? Let's ignore the fact my family's seriously considering that option. So what? This is just a phase I'm going through. Break-ups never really were my thing. Again, ignoring the fact you were my first—and most bloody likely my last—love interest.

            Moving on, I know you can see and hear me, just peer into that orange ball of yours that you love so much—so much you actually converted me into liking that odious round thing—and you might be laughing at me, at what I've become because of you.

            Do you feel triumph? Are you happy with the results? Are you proud?

            It's snowing again. I should've brought another coat with me. Or maybe I should've hauled the entire furnace. Whatever. My ass if freezing in here, just so you know. If I die of pneumonia and freeze over, to be buried in the snow with no chances of being found until the last layer of snow has thawed, I'm blaming you. Hear that? I'm blaming you, just as I've had since you left. This is all your fault. All yours. So I'm blaming you.

            Anyway, back to the snow. I remember you asked me why I liked snow before. Other than the fact that it's pretty, I can't think of any other reason. Oh, yeah, I recall saying it reminded me of rebirth.

            I know, you laughed at me then (and it was very satisfying shoving you into the snow for that). Rebirth and all that cheesy crap was reserved for spring, I know. But spring is so over-rated. Everybody likes spring. A lot of people didn't like winter, because like you and me, they hated the cold. Oh, and they hated shoveling the driveway too.

            But me? I liked it, in a way. Winter to me is the season of change. I was wrong, of course. The real season of change is Fall. It's the time when leaves turn brown and fall off, isn't it? Winter's the time most trees are bare. But after it grows bare, after this season, green sprouts again. To me, this season is the time when those little buggers take a time out from the tiresome process of growing and then falling, then growing again and then falling again, over and over and over.

            This is the time everything is covered in white, as if washing, cleansing us from the filth we've acquired from the past year. But the snow, once it has fallen, never remains pristine. With dust and dirt, it turns gray.

            After you left, Winter isn't the Season of Coldness alone. It's no longer just the season of time out. For other things, maybe. But for me...It does nothing to purge this overwhelming darkness in my soul, caused by your sudden departure from my life.

            From life.

            I've been watching the leaves change from green to brown, till the time they fall off and become part of the ground. I know you didn't exactly want to leave. You never betrayed me, and you never will. I guess you can say I looked into your orange ball of Vision and saw the truth for myself.

            I never doubted you. I was just angry, angry that you left me. Or maybe it's the sedatives talking. Who the hell knows? I've already been deemed unstable to be left on my own. I'm not even allowed to visit you. They're actually stupid enough to think they can separate us when the changing of seasons apart didn't accomplish the task.

            You didn't promise me forever, because that was unnecessary. The vow need not be voiced aloud. But the kiss was a sweet way to seal the deal. I do miss your kisses. The soft caresses that cooled and enflamed me at the same time. The gentle whispers that promised me eternity by your side.

            I don't think I can wait for the season's change. I don't want to wait for the change. Winter has become unbearably cold without your warmth. The white blanket stopped being pretty, as it has now turned gray, covering everything not in pure ablution, but in bleak lifelessness.

            Wait for me. Let me bask in your sunshine and escape the cold.

            The snow began to fall again, the white flakes noiselessly covering the dozens of pills littering the ground beside the unmoving body of a young man leaning against an equally snow-covered grave that read, _Sendoh Akira._

Fin

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            I really wasn't thinking of killing Koshino off (honest!), it sort of just happened. The ending was supposed to have a hopeful, yet nostalgic feel with Koshino deciding to move on. But since I'm in a rare mood of much-bottled angst, I produced a deathfic instead, something I've tried to avoid reading and/or writing since I learned the alphabet. I hope it came out okay though. This is my first time on this kind of thing. And I'm sorry if it's too sad a story, and on Christmas too. But I was in the mood for something different. Did it work? Or should I go bury myself and not come out until spring? And in case you're wondering why Sendoh's dead…well, somebody's gotta be the one to die first. I write better in Koshino's POV. Cause of death irrelevant. If it's so important to you, make your own theory.

Disclaimers: I hold no claim over the characters, just the plot, which I'm sure, is so overused by now. But, if you do intend to plagiarize, I would advise you to be careful with certain elements that I used in the fic that would be too obvious were I to stumble upon it. Avoid phrases and strong images used, if it's not asking too much. Thanks.

To anyone who wants to say anything about the fic, or me, whatever, feel free to drop me a line at kuroi_22@hotmail.com remember, no forwarded messages, or viruses. It's Christmas, give me a break. And also, if you plan on leaving me something, be it praising or dissing, be brave enough to leave a name and email addy to go with it.


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